


Office Politics

by vermicious_knid



Series: In no sense civilized [3]
Category: Gremlins (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid
Summary: "Kaitlyn quietly reminded herself to hire a cleaning service that worked around the clock, and did not have a problem with clients randomly showing up to bite their legs as they worked. The problem with that however, was that most cleaning services took a personal offence to leg-biting."The further misadventures of working for a smart lizard man and his ever-growing army of gremlins.





	Office Politics

**Author's Note:**

> the "New Capitalist Democratic Nice Folks" title is taken directly from the Gremlins 2 novelization, in which Brain himself writes a political manifesto while the writer of the book is tied up in the bathroom. This is actually a part of the book.

”Mr Brain.”

 

It was just another nice, normal day at the NCDNF (which stood for New Capitalist Democratic Nice Folks, a company name that made Kaitlyn want to laugh and cry in equal measure). Once again she found herself in her boss office, waiting for him to finish another phone call to one of their clients – the company mostly consulted other companies on the stock market, but offered many other services – such as the demolition of buildings and selling and manufacturing explosives.

 

They say that a business and their goal is often a reflection of the staff – in this case, that was very true. With a hearty, polite chuckle her boss finally hung up the phone and circled around in his chair to face her. The blinds behind him were drawn, and the edges where light would have peeked through were meticulously covererd with ductape. Kaitlyn blinked and moved her gaze down, once again for no particular reason expecting to see a human being sitting in that chair.

 

Because sometimes it was just impossible to match that deep, ivy league-sounding voice to the reptile-like mutant who owned it. Although, she supposed the tweed jacket helped a bit. Either that or she had worked for this company for way too long. His long,elongated claws tap-tapped against the mahogany desk for a moment as he stared at her expectantly. His office was quite the opposite to the other ones on the floor - it was neat, orderly and clean. It smelled like expensive tobacco and air freshener, and the floor did not have a single speck of blood or puke on it. Kaitlyn quietly reminded herself to hire a cleaning service that worked around the clock, and did not have a problem with clients randomly showing up to bite their legs as they worked. 

 

The problem with that however, was that most cleaning services took a personal offence to leg-biting.

 

”Yes, what is it my dear?” he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat, which she ignored as she crossed her arms and glared at him. He looked back at her innocently, though how innocent can you get with yellow eyes and shark-like teeth?

 

”I really don’t want to ask this but….why is there a petting zoo set up in the meeting room?” she asked, sighing. He blinked momentarily and waved his hand theatrically to the heavy mac computer on his desk. 

 

”Oh that, a few of my employees ordered it online. A fantastic new source of information, I must say!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together in a pleased sort of way. But Kaitlyn was far from sharing this emotion.

 

”I see. And you somehow don’t think that it will distrupt the working atmosphere?”

 

”By jove, quite the opposite!”

 

”I don’t follow.” she muttered, massaging her temple as she prepared herself for another one of his infamous speeches that revealed the inner logics of a madman. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, smiling sinisterly at nothing in particular before he set his eyes on her again - and she was reminded again that, despite his human mannerisms, he was just like the rest of them. 

 

”You’ve been here now for three years, and you’ve seen firsthand how... _disruptive_ things can really get around here. And you know, it’s not only pure joy in it for us all the time, oh no. We need relaxation, to be in touch with nature and all it has to offer. Except, as you know, we cannot go outside very often. And it has been proven that a close contact with mammalians other than our close counterparts can be a fine, therapeutic experience. ”

 

 _Therapeutic my ass_ , she thought. 

 

”Is that why they’re currently hunting the live chickens around with bebe guns and drawing graffiti on the cow? _Obscene_ graffiti, I might add...” it was a mistake to say this, because his reaction was nothing beyond sheer pleasure, his eyes glimmering as he started to laugh in a way that reminded her of a james bond villain. Collapsing in a nearby chair, she groaned out loud as he watched with a pleased smile on his green, scaly face. Just like the other gremlins, he loved watching others suffer - though he was a lot more sneaky about it. _The bastard._

 

”We all have different ways of expressing ourselves, don’t we?” he said. There was some truth to that, she supposed. 

 

”Nevertheless, I feel it would be wise if the petting zoo was, ahem, moved from the meeting room in time for the meeting with our shareholders this afternoon.” she suggested, rising from the chair and mentally picking herself up from the bottomless pit of despair her co-workers usually put her in. Brain started rifling through some paperwork on his desk, a concentrated look overtaking his features as his voice got less animated and more serious. 

 

”Naturally, I would expect you do to nothing less. After all, we have to show them our best before we give them our worst.” he said, and if he would have looked up from his desk, he would have seen her face go through a fascinating metamorphosis of expressions that only hinted at the apoplectic frustration within. 

 

”That’s right sir, although not exactly how I would put it.”

 

* * *

 

Even if Mr. Brain had an interesting way of explaining things, he was right about one thing. Kaitlin had indeed worked for nearly 3 years now as his secretary (and also as an advisor,bodyguard, loyal underling, parole officer etc). It had been harrowing at first, and she could not comprehend what made her go on with it – why she just didn’t quit when she found that poor mailman bitten and bleeding in the elevator, two pints of it already soaking up the carpet.(He lived, by the way. A fact that Kaitlyn was mercilessly thankful for, but left the staff in an uproar.) Or when she found a casket with a dead body inside, sitting in one of the hallways, precariously balancing on a skateboard.

 

Oh yes, the staff. Sure, she had heard of co-workers being unreasonable – that was not so unusual. Loud? Sure. Messy and unorganized? Absolutely.

 

Crocodile/monkey hybrid mutants with an ample supply of firearms and the brains of evil toddlers? Yeah, not so usual.

 

But thats’ what they were – literary. Well, Kaitlyn wasn’t actually sure – she had tried looking it up, but without much success. She had also tried asking Brain about it, but all that did was launch into an hour long philosophical monologue that had her falling asleep in his visitors chair.

 

But her salary was more than satisfactory, and had in fact helped her move out of her ratty shoebox of an apartment in the bronx into something eons better near fifth avenue. Her clothes were usually tailored, and most of her high heeled shoes had telltale red soles. She did look the part of an ordinary secretary, just one of the many thousands in new york.

 

Except nothing about her work had to do with just typing, mailing and answering phone calls.

 

By becoming an employee for Lebronsky, she had unknowingly signed on to be the crocodile/mutant wrangler. Or ”gremlin”, the term they themselves preferred, and which was often scribbled with permanent marker over the cubicle walls. Or on her legs, whenever she made the mistake of wearing sheer stockings. It was like constantly being surrounded by tiny, ferocious baby crocodiles with knives who would be spouting gibberish one minute, stage a parody of a famous broadway production the next – and finally just go to down on your shoes, biting them to shreds.

 

When her friends talked about being stressed by work, she laughed. _They had no idea..._

 

For the first several weeks, she had been beyond terrified of them. And they took advantage of it – hiding in her trashcan and popping out at a moments notice, stealing her lunch, throwing pieces of gum at her hair and once throwing up over her computer keyboard. And making those awful noises like babies talking through glass in their throats.

 

Finally, she had snapped and found herself marching to the weapons room (because yes, of course they had one of those and please dont ask) to pick out a lovely flamethrower and aimed it at the nearest possible gremlin at full throttle. The office smelled like burnt chicken for days afterward. But all that Brain did was nod at her approvingly as it happened, the flames reflecting in his large glasses as he quietly chuckled to himself.

 

”oh yes, we’ll make something out of you yet.”

 

After that, the pranks ceased almost completely and she could finally keep her office free of the little critters (most of the time anyway). But as it was, over the years she came to grow fond of them . They did have one major thing in common, though apperances would say otherwise – food.

 

The gremlins were a notoriously hungry bunch. All the time, eating,eating, eating. (though it did eliminate the problem of a possible roach infestation, since they would eat those too).

 

Growing up in a french household, she had learned early on that food was more than just that – it was an experience, a time when people came together. So one day, when she found an unopened, untouched pizza box at her desk by lunchhour (the cardboard had been nibbled at, but still) , she was more than a little touched.

 

* * *

The office had no closing hours, because most of the gremlins never slept. And they were lucky – they did live in the city that never slept after all. But Kaitlyn worked under normal office hours, and rarely had to take any paperwork home with her, since there would always be someone awake at the office to finish them for her. If they were intelligible enough, that is. She would stop by some of the cubicles on her way out, as well as the large kitchen area where there were always at least a dozen gremlins hanging out at one time, eating takeout food – or throwing it at each other.

 

”Alright guys, I’m done for the day – see you tomorrow!”

 

”Wraghhhhhhhhhhh!” they would reply in hoarse outcries, which she had learnt usually meant ”we don’t care” but sometimes she’d heard it called out in sad tones. Over the years they had worked together, the gremlins had gone from treating her as a favorite chew toy to regarding her as some sort of big sister figure – and no matter how strangely it was expressed at times, they did harbor some sort of demented affection for her.

 


End file.
